


that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam

by twicedamnedharlot



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Mutual Pining, Secret Identity, Sentai Genji Shimada
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 15:01:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13126113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twicedamnedharlot/pseuds/twicedamnedharlot
Summary: Zenyatta's new boyfriend is Kamen Dragon's publicity agent.He really should have cleaned his room before he came over.[For @knisspel on the Genyatta Secret Santa gift exchange]





	that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Knisspel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knisspel/gifts).



> Hey @knisspel! I was so super stoked that you requested sentai au because I've been thinking about it p much everyday since it came out. Particularly this one scene that was always stuck in my mind where Zenyatta (a huge fan) after having met Genji (an officiated "marketing agent" for Kamen Dragon's PR team, think a la Tiger & Bunny) is somehow forced to address the very large infatuation in the room and introduce his new, Totally Normal boyfriend to his huge collection of merch for a superhero whom he may also have a flirty rapport with for the past ten years.  
> Genji is, for obvious reasons, delighted by all this.
> 
> (Oh and in this they're both in their 30s but that's not super important, just that I like imagining Genji with greying hair and thinking of settling down with a cute guy.)
> 
> I really hope you like it!

Zenyatta doesn’t actually think about what he and Genji might be walking into when they breach the door to his apartment. It’s actually sort of hard to think at all when a beautiful man has his mouth on yours and is kissing you like his life depends on it. From there they stumbled their way across his living room, ricocheting off of furniture, hands reaching to pet and paw at bruises and to feel skin they’ve both been aching for these past few months.

 

Zenyatta isn’t thinking when they finally crash through his bedroom door in a flurry of giggles, not when they collapse in a heap on his bed, not when they collide semi-painfully with each other and kiss to make it all better.

 

No, he doesn’t stop to think at all, not until Genji moves south along his body, mouthing against his clavicle, “I can’t believe this is happening,” and Zenyatta, feeling like he’s full of divine light, wraps his arms around this beautiful man’s shoulders and looks, looks up at his ceiling and sees--

 

“Oh  _ god _ !”

 

Genji is off him in the instant, one arm twisting behind his back as if to reach for something, his face changing instantly from warm affection to steely fury as his eyes jump from Zenyatta below him to whatever’s above them.

 

“What is--” Whatever Genji is about to say falls silent. How else would a suitor respond when gazing up at 24 x 36 inch glossy-print of pissfig’s infamous Kamen Dragon “unsuited” design, illuminated sensuously by an official KD merchandise lamp.

 

“Oh my god.”

 

“Oh my  _ god _ ,” repeats Zenyatta as he curls up into a ball, using a Kamen Dragon dakimura as a shield for what is currently happening in his bedroom.

 

Actually, that’s a terrible idea. He tosses the body pillow to the floor, safe side up, where Genji can’t possibly see it.

 

Genji is still gazing up at the poster with an odd look on his face. “Is that...m--” He stops himself, mouth opening and closing silently as he takes it all in.

 

“ _ Please stop looking at it. _ ”

 

“How can I not? It’s  _ huge _ .” He finally does look away from it, intending to look Zenyatta in the eye for added effect but is then distracted by.... everything else in the room. “Oh my god.”

 

Zenyatta decides then that he will live out his days under his bed covers and wait for his brother to come fetch the embarrassing, heartbroken shell of himself when he doesn’t show up for any of their biweekly lunches.

 

From under the covers, he can feel Genji sliding off the bed and padding around the room. There’s a click just before the lights flicker on and Genji whistles.

 

Zenyatta knows what he’s seeing. On the walls left and right of the bed, heavy-duty shelves have been installed from ceiling to floor in order to store the sheer volume of a decade’s worth of Kamen Dragon paraphernalia. He likes to order the left wall as the site of all official merchandise, such as action figures, while the right side has the dedicated projects of all the fan artists he’s met over the years with all.... sorts.... of lovely takes on everyone’s favorite masked hero. The wall directly opposite his bed was papered in commemorative t-shirts and posters, the floor decoratively littered with plushies and throw pillows with the hero’s face stamped on them.

 

“Zen, how old is this?”

 

Zenyatta peeks out from under the covers and sees Genji pointing at a fan-made decorated stand where the artist had done an art nouveau inspired take on Kamen Dragon’s earliest armor, the chrome build on synthetic skin body armor with the green LED running lights.

 

Zenyatta pulls the covers back over his head.

 

“I found it at a fan event about a week after Kamen Dragon had first introduced himself to the public.”

 

“...Your shit is ten years old?”

 

The covers are flung off as Zenyatta launches himself across the room at Genji.

 

“It is not shit, my collection is very important to me--”

 

Genji’s hands are already flying up in a gesture of surrender and placation. “Wrong word. I actually think this incredibly impressive. Kinda overwhelming? But mostly impressive.” He smiles, the same warm, delighted smile he’s always given him since they had met all those months ago, like an old friend seeing their other after so long. “I think it’s really cool how much dedication you’ve put into this.”

 

Zenyatta nearly collapses where he stands, his hands coming up to cover his eyes and cradle his face. “My brother would very kindly disagree with you.”

 

Genji gently pries away his hands, forcing him to look him in the eye before he asks, “Is that why you didn’t ever want me over?”

 

“It’s also because my brother only recently moved out, but yes. My brother has also told me in several different ways that if I ever wanted to be serious with you, I either had to tell you about my.... pre-occupation or throw out everything completely.”

 

Genji falls over with laughter.

 

“It’s not funny! Kamen Dragon’s marketing agent tracks me down after years of not living in Japan just for a documentary piece, whom I actually start to admire and like romantically and, and--”

 

“And?” Genji’s smirk is devilish as he waits for whatever comes next.

 

“Be honest," he dodges. "How would you feel if the person you wanted to date might also bring a camera crew to show the entire world how long I’ve been in love with--” Zenyatta shuts his mouth tight and Genji’s face goes slack.

 

“Holy shit.”

 

“No. No, no. Genji, I-I didn’t mean it like that.”

 

Genji falls to the floor in tears and laughter. “Holy  _ shit _ !”

 

Zenyatta shoves him towards the door. “I can’t do this. Goodnight, Mr. Shimada.”

 

“Wait,  _ wait _ .” Genji twists in his arms and pushes back against any more shoves. “Just wait! I wanna know one thing and I swear I won’t laugh.”

 

He, unfortunately, giggles at Zenyatta’s disbelieving look.

 

“I swear--I just." He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath and when it’s over he looks as serious as he ever has. Or as serious as a half-dressed man standing in a room of fan merchandise can look.

 

Genji cups Zenyatta’s face, stroking along his cheekbone. “If Kamen Dragon appeared before you right now, confessing his love, would you leave me for him?”

 

“Out.”

 

Genji howls with laughter, hanging onto the door frame as Zenyatta tries to shove him over the threshold.

 

“I’m sorry, I had to!”

 

“No, you didn’t,” Zenyatta says, stepping on Genji’s exposed toes with his heel. “And you know what? I’d consider it.”

 

“Wait,” and now he sounds wounded, pulling back just far enough to get a good look at him. For a man in his thirties with hair going grey, he looks frustratingly adorable with a pout. “You’re just saying that because I’m being a dick.”

 

“Yes, you are and no, I mean it. Kamen Dragon was probably my first love, as strange as that may sound. You said it yourself when we first met, who wouldn’t be charmed by a masked hero who saves them on almost a weekly basis?”

 

“I--”

 

“When I was living alone in Japan, there was a time I felt Kamen Dragon was my only friend. And as infrequent as our meetings and run-ins were, he was always charming and gentlemanly. He was adventurous and bold and kind and when we talked late into the night I sometimes felt I knew how deep his heart was.”

 

Genji stares at him with an unreadable expression as he gestures at the risque poster above the bed. “I’ll admit it wasn’t an entirely pure feeling. Meeting a man with those shoulders and that voice at nineteen? I didn’t want to put that in your documentary.”

 

Zenyatta walked over to the fan merch wall and plucked a keychain from a stand, something made with acrylic and glitter. “But I was also proud of him. For rousing together an entire city against a mob that had held it hostage for centuries and for protecting it even when outside forces tried to rush into the power vacuum. He did it with such style and grace--Genji, you’ve  _ met _ him. You must know what it’s like.”

 

Genji hardly seemed reactive but he responded eventually with, “What’s what like?”

 

“Just-- _ him _ ,” Zenyatta gestures grandly as if the whole encompassment would explain everything that Kamen Dragon  _ is _ .

 

“If your first love, the person you’ve thought about for the past decade, came before you and said they’ve felt anything remotely similar to what you have held for them all these years, wouldn’t you stop to consider it as well?”

 

Genji didn’t respond to that, staring at Zenyatta as if he’d never seen him before. Which made him feel terrible because this was not how he wanted Genji to find out just how far he’s come to admire his superpowered client.

 

“That doesn’t mean,” Zenyatta tries to start, approaching Genji again. “That I would run off with him just like that. I would need more than rooftop chats from years ago and memories of running for my life when terrorist organizations tried to have him and anyone near him killed. I want--”

 

He slips his hand into Genji’s and it lights his heart when the man automatically squeezes it tightly, intertwining their fingers together.

 

“I want this. You. Every day or almost every day when you’re not busy. I want to text you when you’re not there or think about you when I can’t and yet be able to count on seeing you later. I want to talk about where we’re going and see your face and not wonder if--”

 

Zenyatta has never been kissed so gently before.

 

Genji takes his time with it, holding Zenyatta’s face like it’s something precious, mouth traveling from his and across his cheeks, around his eyes, and down the slope of his nose. He comes back to kiss him on the mouth, slow and deep and so, so gently before pulling away slightly.

 

“Tekhartha Zenyatta…”

 

_ There’s something I need to tell you. _


End file.
